


Things My Father Said

by PixieFeet (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother, Brotherly Love, Gen, Law School, Pre Canon, argument, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2736626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/PixieFeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sammy," he began gently. "You know dad loves you, dude. You're smart, you've always been smart. You get it quick, you're bright as hell, Sam. And you're so like dad you two can't see where one ends and the other begins. Dad's proud of you, Sammy, in ways I could never make him proud. Because you need him to be."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things My Father Said

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from the Black Stone Cherry song of the same name.

**The things my father said would make me a better man**

 

"If you walk out that door, Sam, then you stay gone." John's face was stern and Sam shook his head, searching for his argument.

Why can't you just accept that I'm not like Dean? This isn't what I want to do, Dad. I want to be normal with a job and a family - do you even remember what that is?" Sam's anger escalated quickly as the heated debate grew into an argument in Bobby's kitchen. 

Dean leaned awkwardly against the counter, nursing a half-empty beer and Bobby paced nervously across the threshold while Sam and John got louder in the walkway. Neither onlooker could interject - Sammy would bite and run off, stubborn as he was, and John would get more unwilling to budge and, Bobby didn't doubt, give Sam a hiding he'd probably long deserved. They were so very alike, and neither saw it.

"No Sam, because trying normality led to accidents. This is our lot, son, and you're part of our family. You can't run off because you think you can play pretend." John shook his head. "College isn't free, kid, and I have nothing - you have an offshore account I don't know about?"

Sam jumped across him quickly. "I can do this, I can be good something and have a life, a normal life. I want out; I can't be like Dean, like you want, I can't. Dean asks how high when you say jump, I won't."

The snap in Sam's tone was cruel and Dean anticipated the slap before his father threw out his hand. The sound was deafening, skin on skin, as John's palm swiped Sam's cheek. Sam cupped his hand to the stinging flesh and swallowed hard as he glared at his father. 

"Hit me again." Sam hissed through gritted teeth. "Just try it!" 

When John raised his hand, fist balled, Bobby slipped between the two and placed his hands on their chests. Sam's heart beat wildly beneath his fingers while John's breathing was ragged and fast. "Beating each other ten ways from Sunday is not the answer." He looked squarely at Sam, then John. "Dean, take your brother outside." Dean didn't protest. He set his beer bottle down and steered Sam out of Bobby's by his shoulders. 

Alone, John looked at Bobby with anger and embarrassment across his features. 

"You can't beat sense into the kid, Johnny." Bobby rubbed a hand through his russet beard. He dug around the mess on his table for the scotch and poured two tumblers out. He handed one to John. "You two, you're both so set, so focused, just on different things. You can't - you won't make him change his mind by hittin' him. He's big and stubborn enough, he's just gon' hit you back. Dean remembers Mary, misses her deep, to Sam she's photographs and fire that he doesn't even know from dreams or reality. If he's gon' go, John, he won't be stopped. I don't even think Dean could stop him - his mind's made up." 

John swallowed half the shot of whisky down. "I know," he stared into the glass. "But the further away he goes, the less I can protect him." 

"You can't protect 'em forever, John." Bobby reasoned and fixed his cap. 

 

\- - - - - - 

 

In the yard, Dean watched Sam as he paced off his anger. Part of Dean just wanted him to cry like when they were kids so he could hug him, promise it would be fine and read him that book about the mouse he liked. 

"He shouldn't have hit you." Dean spoke up into the quiet, dark yard. "OK, he was wrong. But, Sammy, you've got to know what you're doing to him with all this college stuff...,"

"What I'm doing to him? You're joking, right?" Sam laughed sarcastically, face red, eyes brimming.

Dean flattened his lips and shook his head. "He's tried for years to keep us safe, to find what killed Mom. For us. You're thanking him by disappearing to university to play house."

"God you sound just like him!" Sam screwed up his face. 

"Rather him than you, you whiney bitch." Dean quipped and Sam glared at him. "Dad's wrong for hitting you, but dude, you deserved it. You're not entitled, so quit actin' like you are. Law school, Sammy? ...why?" Dean asked, riled up and prepared to do battle. 

"Why not?" Sam shrugged his shoulders, the edge gone from his tone and replaced with sadness. "I want to be able to have kids to love them as much as dad does you." 

Dean froze, "Sammy," he began gently. "You know dad loves you, dude. You're smart, you've always been smart. You get it quick, you're bright as hell, Sam. And you're so like dad you two can't see where one ends and the other begins. Dad's proud of you, Sammy, in ways I could never make him proud. Because you need him to be." He stepped away from the house and close to Sam. "He didn't mean it - hitting you, what he said about not coming back if you go." He reached out and pulled Sam into a hug. "You've just got to stop kicking Sam, you're always kicking."

Sam relished in the hug for a moment before working himself free from Dean's grip. "Maybe he did, maybe not, but he said it. I'm going to go, Dean. I've gotta try something, or else how can I ever know what I'm fighting to save by staying?"

Dean exhaled heavily, "Don't, Sam." 

"I leave in a week." Sam whispered and pushed his hands into his pockets. "I'm not sorry." He kicked the dirt beneath his feet and walked back toward Bobby's door. 

"I am." Dean stared out into Bobby's yard.


End file.
